Choosing Your Road
by Idealistic Lover
Summary: Chapter 12, and the Wise discuss Kathryn's fate - apologies for the excess of elvish at the end... READ AND REVIEW thanks to those who have =) !!
1. The Hands of a Healer

*Hi reader! This story is a jump from where my last story - "Hidden in Imladris" left. I hit a block so I decided to write another interesting part in the story, so if you're a little confused about the characters and such like try that story first! (talk about promotion of one's story!) Anyway so I've skipped from Bree to Rivendell but don't fear if you DO care about this story cos I will sometime soon fill in the gap! Enjoy!*  
  
*Oh and for those elvish fans out there I've tried to get the elvish as accurate as possible - trying to obey rules such as nasal mutation etc, etc but nobody's perfect but I've given it a try and it sounds pretty so that's what counts!*  
  
*  
  
Kathryn opened her eyes, and in her dazed thoughts wondered if the past long years had been but a dream. She lay for a moment looking at the ceiling, and the woodcarvings running across it, smiling at the light playing across it. Then she remembered, and sat up sharply, drawing a sharp pain to her side. Lying back down, she let herself cry silently, warm tears running into her ears. Then she realised how long it had been since she had last cried - she had always lacked the privacy, on her long journeys, and the last journey she had to show courage to keep the hobbits spirits up. And, she admitted to herself only, to prove to Estel that she was capable of surviving like him. Sadly, she also realised that no one was at her side to see if she was fully healed. Shaking her head, to rid herself of such depressing thoughts, she reminded herself that Frodo was in deeper peril.  
  
"Frodo!" She swore, leaping from her bed, this time ignoring the pain. Her travel-worn clothes were gone, replaced by the red gown that lay on a chair. She growled - dresses were inappropriate for where she was needed - then discovered a light gold shirt with green tunic and breeches laid out beside the dress. She dressed quickly; donning also some soft brown leather boots, and ran along the halls. Her visits to Rivendell, although usually short, were frequent, and she certainly knew where the healing room was. After another quick search, she found her saddlebag, and snatching it, hurried out of the room.  
  
There was an urgency in the air that she felt almost as soon as leaving her room. Now she ran along the corridor, shouting apologies over her shoulder to startled elves. She reached an open bridge-like corridor, at the end of which was a silver door, and went through. When she entered, there was a murmur of surprise; all eyes darted to her. Elrond raised a sharp eyebrow. There was extreme tension in the room. Around the bed that was raised on a dais were gathered Elrond, Estel and a few skilled elven lords. She passed them to reach Frodo and knelt down beside him.  
  
An elf from the Grey Havens called Galdor spoke indignantly, "Why is she here? This woman should not belong here - she is not skilled, and I can clearly see that she has been trained in the opposite - arts of war."  
  
Elrond spoke, "I am inclined to agree with Galdor, Kathryn. You should be resting, for your own wound is but barely healed, and was also deadly."  
  
But Estel strode forward, defending her. "Frodo would be lying dead, if not for Kathryn's healing attempts, and that was achieved without the herbs and necessary help we have now."  
  
Kathryn ignored their arguments, instead turning to Frodo. He lay pale under the coverlet. Tentatively, she drew it back to reveal the healed over scar on his shoulder. Closing her eyes and concentrating, she could feel the evil festering in it. Gently she touched the wound with a caressing hand. Frodo stirred a little from his deadly sleep; his face became less taut. But his shoulder was chillingly cold, and numb from what she could sense. She concentrated more on the spreading blackness within his wound, although it sickened her, her own wound throbbing in unison with his. She forced her mind to pierce deep, following the path the Morgul blade would have taken, and then further. Suddenly her mind struck something, and a spear of malice, hatred and death struck her, the spear fanned out into blackness, overcoming all.  
  
The lords turned from their debate to find Estel holding Kathryn's limp body, with Elrond by her side.  
  
"See?" One cried triumphantly. "She faints at the sight of a wound, there is no possibility that she is fit to aid us."  
  
But Elrond furrowed his eyebrows and touched Kathryn's forehead, murmuring some soothing elvish. "Let us hear from her first." He said absently.  
  
"Lasto beth nin, tolo dan ne ngalad. Eglo i-Dhúath, echo! (Hear my voice; come back to the light. Leave the Shadow, awaken!)" Elrond's words filtered softly like light into her darkened mind. She opened her eyes.  
  
"Na cir caitar (There is a shard lying within)."  
  
Elrond then spoke to them all, "It is as we feared, a splinter off the top of the blade remains deep within the wound, and I guess, burrows further inwards towards his heart." Kathryn flung herself at Frodo again, laying both her hands upon the small white scar, they then moved half towards his chest.  
  
"Si (Here)!" She declared, then sank into a meditation that not even the shakings of Elrond could stir her from.  
  
In her mind she formed a pure white flame of intense heat and love and let it flow through her hands, into his veins, banishing the coldness of death. Then she confronted the resisting evil of the Morgul blade, but instead of the solid blackness within Frodo, she found dark flame. An eye wreathed in flame. And it pierced her very essence, her very soul, casting away her light dismissively. Then realisation came to both beings. Kathryn went cold. It was Sauron, the Enemy of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth. Intense hatred bore down on her - he knew who she was - the person he feared had been born - an heir of Elendil. But resolve hardened within her, and she summoned her light, this time it appeared woven with grey mist and flecked with green elven light. The Eye shrank back: he was not yet strong enough to fight such strength.  
  
"Leave this place, Sauron." She spat. "You are not yet powerful enough to infiltrate a place of love and peace." The Eye fled. But even in fleeing, it glanced back, weighing up this being of power and doubted. Assuring itself that a wizard must have been behind this woman's power, it left for now.  
  
Warm, welcoming fire burned in front of her, reminding her of the place she belonged. "Elauriel Valorlindë tulo si! U-heniach i rodyn! Tulo! (Love- fire-daughter Power-golden-song return! You understand not the powers (you play with)! Come!)" It roared.  
  
She opened her eyes, in front of her Frodo lay, but colour was returning to him, and he was breathing well. Touching his shoulder, she cried with joy, he was warming up again. Then she felt the two hands upon her shoulder blades. She turned slowly.  
  
"Mithrandir!" She cried again with joy. "Ingon le nantach firn! (I thought you were dead!) Were you the fire?"  
  
"Yes it was me." He lowered his voice. "I will speak to you more of that later." Then Kathryn remembered whom she had confronted, and shuddered, then reassured herself that her old friend Gandalf must have been aiding her.  
  
"Do not think of such things, Kathryn, you are in the House of Elrond, and should have been resting!" Gandalf whirled her round to face him, his dark eyes piercing hers.  
  
"I saved Frodo! While your so-called wise argue about frivolities such as a lady entering the room, the lady of your discussions does what you were set here to do!" Gandalf's face softened, and he chuckled.  
  
"I see you have survived your encounter, I see no shadow within you." Then he laughed, for it was a time to be laughing. All was well, the hobbit and the heiress of Isildur were saved, and the Ringwraiths banished for the time being.  
  
Elrond came over to them, smiling with firm belief. "Welcome once again to Rivendell, Kathryn." At the mention of her name, the elven lords started talking fervently, then they were silent.  
  
Galdor stepped forward and took her hand, "Dear Kathryn, forgive me, the years of your absence has changed you," He smiled and murmured in a voice only she could hear. "For the better I hope." Then he spoke aloud. "This is Kathryn, daughter of Taurrandir, the great Ranger who confronted the Witch King. Praise her hands for they are skilled in both healing and hurt - a precious if dangerous gift. Always remember that you are forever welcome in this house." The rest of the elven lords raised their voices in joyful praise. Kathryn blushed for a moment, then realised that she had made herself worthy of such praise.  
  
Then Galdor called for silence, taking Estel forward. "This is Estel, well known to this house, his father also rode in the wars against the terror of Angmar. Praise them both well." And he took himself by amazement as he looked upon both Estel and Kathryn; they stood tall side by side, proud and majestic. Then Kathryn turned to Estel, and warmth flowed into her heart, sparkling tears of happiness fell from her cheeks, and they embraced. All in that room saw them and could not help but be puzzled at the likeness in both of them, despite their difference in hair and eye colour.  
  
"Now both of you." Elrond spoke, sharing a conspirital smile with Gandalf. "Rest. You are in Rivendell, and I will not see my work of healing undone."  
  
"Yes, and I will tie you both to your beds if you do not!" Gandalf winked.  
  
Estel and Kathryn exchanged looks of feigned despair. Disregarding their praise, neither of them could take on Elrond Half-Elven and Gandalf the Grey!  
  
"Peace! We will do as you ask, save that you will tell me the moment Frodo awakens!" Kathryn negotiated.  
  
"Very well. I will not be leaving his side either way, just in case." Gandalf agreed. 


	2. Sleeper's Guardian

The next day Kathryn was up early. Although the bed had been welcome, it was soon becoming a prison rather than a comfort. She carefully eased herself out of bed and walked slowly through one of the archways to an open- air balcony. Sunlight and air swept to her and she smiled, looking down to the courtyard below. Several elves walked among the alternate trees and architecture tended by the Fair Folk. They were in groups or pairs, talking earnestly of something of significant importance to worry them so. Frowning Kathryn contemplated what it might be, surely all of Rivendell did not know of the Ring?  
  
However her thoughts were soon drawn away from those puzzling currents. A group of dwarves were arriving in Rivendell, perhaps a further cause for interest.  
  
Eagerly, Kathryn dressed in the red dress still laid out for her. She noticed with surprise that it was custom made, the skirts dissected to enable freedom of movement. Ready, she left her chambers, finally free from the cursed bed. Everywhere was quiet, not tensely silent, but interrupted with snatches of a waterfalls hushed melody, or a bird's praise for the day. The corridors with long open windows were alive with growth and golden sunlight.  
  
She did not know where she was going. Her feet took her out into the courtyard and gardens. For a while she simply sat by a fountain, teasing the water with a finger; content. Her heart swelled with happiness just to be back in this place of peace and joy. Until it burst into song, streaming out her mouth and mingling with the enchantment of the air around her. No words were formed, save in the song itself that could not be mistaken for anything but how she felt at that moment.  
  
Another voice weaved around her melody, providing a lower earthier counterbalance to her ethereal harmony. They sang on together for a long time, until Kathryn consciously noticed the presence of another. She stopped, although holding back her song felt like caging a wild bird. Unable to see the stranger, she sat where she was, waiting for him to speak.  
  
"Mae govannen linnol hiril (Greetings singing lady). I lir lîn luitha 'uren (Your song enchants my heart)."  
  
"Hennaid (Thanks)." He was standing right behind her now. Rising as gracefully as she could, she turned to face her mysterious accompaniment.  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
"Kathryn?" They both started at once. Grimacing, they then laughed.  
  
"Laugar nin gur ceni lin (It warms my heart to see you)!" He announced, then his face grew serious. "Lastach i siniath doll? I harn perian an in edhel tegiel aen si maithol dan in Ulaer! Harthon nestatha hain (Have you heard the dark tidings? A hobbit and an elf were brought here, wounded fighting against the Ringwraiths! I hope they will be healed)." He lowered his voice. "I heard Elrond mention a thing called 'Isildur's Bane'. Have you heard of this?"  
  
Kathryn pushed the shadows that had been forming out of her mind with a forced smile. "I doubt today is a day for speaking of such things, Legolas." She felt a little weary now. "I am sorry, but if you will excuse me." Turning, she felt a sharp spasm of pain in her side that forced her to her knees.  
  
Concerned, Legolas rushed to her side. "What is wrong?" Unable to answer, Kathryn gasped for air. Legolas carefully laid her against the fountain's side, sensitive fingers feeling the side that she clutched. "You are wounded!" He exclaimed, blue eyes confused.  
  
Regaining a little breath she answered him, "Yes, I was the 'elf' brought in with the hobbit." Ashamed of her weakness, she tried to push him aside, but her arms could not have banished a butterfly. Her brown eyes appealed helplessly up at his face. Grinning, Legolas picked her up in his arms and, under her insistent directions, carried her to her rooms.  
  
Welcome company, Legolas stayed by her bed with her, entertaining her with tales of Mirkwood and humorous events in King Thranduil's court. Laughing was the best cure for the ice cold in her side, eventually exhausting her to sleep.  
  
Legolas watched her while she was sleeping, seeing the younger, more naïve and innocent Kathryn he had duelled with that late night some twenty years ago. Little time for elves, but even though she was immortal also he could see the toll those years had taken on her. Those cares, despite not being manifested as lines or as grey hairs instead in her eyes and the very aura of life she gave off, were lifted by sleep. In sleep, she was no longer the towering sorceress, nor the fierce rangeress, fighting against the world. She was at peace. Moonlight through the windows soothed her hardened features. Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead, and she murmured in her sleep like a half-woken child. Then she smiled and sank deeply once more in to Sleep's comforting arms. 


	3. Wakening Again

*Hey! Thanks for the reviews!! I'd like to clear some things up for you.  
  
Hyper Daydreamer : This is a story that's continued from my first story "Hidden in Imladris", it has got up to Bree, but I hit a writer's block so I wrote another section of the same story but further on.I know that's a bitty confusing but if you want to know more about Kathryn read "Hidden" first thanks!  
  
Hyper Daydreamer: Legolas kissed her forehead, also if you read the story before, she's already had a 'run in' with Legolas before! (hehe) Kathryn is her name because she's only half elven - her mother was an elf, her father was a Ranger.I hope that explains it! I would recommend reading my first story first (cough, for no reason other than understanding cough, cough)  
  
Thank you SpArKeR050! It's been a while since I got reviews.*  
  
Anyway onto the story.  
  
*  
  
As she slept, she felt a guardian of light over her, protecting her from nightmares. Her dreams were peaceful and healing, full of joy but unremembered when she awoke. Eyelids fluttering open, she immediately glanced to the chair by her bed. It was empty. She scrambled frantically out of bed, searching around the apartment, but he was gone. She felt lonely, and helpless. But she soon reprimanded herself, she was a Ranger, and she could feel her wound almost healed. Enough now that she was fit to leave her rooms, unlike yesterday when she foolishly had taken a risk.  
  
"How long have I been asleep, I wonder." She muttered to herself. "It can't have been midday when he carried me up here." Glancing outside, she saw it was once again morning. "A whole day and night?!" Spluttering she stumbled out of her apartments.  
  
"I was wondering when you would rise." Said a deep voice to the right side of her. "Frodo has just woken, you said you wanted to know."  
  
Kathryn turned and smiled, seeing the wizard smoothing his beard. "Thank you Gandalf! I will run to his chambers immediately."  
  
"Walk, Kathryn. You will walk. I don't want that wound taking any more damage like yesterday." He looked at her so sternly, with his bushy eyebrows, that she found it comical and laughed.  
  
"So you found out about yesterday too? Do not worry yourself! I have learnt my lesson." Gandalf looked doubtful. "Fare well for now!" She called over her shoulder as she strode away.  
  
Slowly opening the door, she crept inside. Frodo lay on the bed with his eyes closed, asleep. Walking over, she sat on the side of his bed and looked at him silently.  
  
Then suddenly the sleeper spoke, "Good morning Kathryn, I see you also want to see if I am well." He opened his eyes, once again clear blue and sparkling with a hobbit's love for life.  
  
"Oh I knew you were well, Frodo, the elves look after their charges well. I should know, they had me in bed for a while too." Kathryn allowed herself a quick glimpse at his right shoulder and arm.  
  
Smiling, Frodo noticed her brief examination then pulled himself up to sitting. "I know I have you to thank for being al-" he paused, then finished. "-awake right now."  
  
"Do not fret overly much about it, Elrond would have done the same." Thinking, she added slyly, "in time."  
  
"How is your side?" Frodo asked, concerned.  
  
"It is fine, and almost completely healed! The elves would not have allowed me out if it were not!" Then there was a thoughtful quiet, as they both just sat there. "Sam has already been here I presume? He was 'right worried about mister Frodo'" Kathryn imitated Sam's speech. "Bless him." She sighed.  
  
"Yes indeed he has! Poor Sam, I hope he got some sleep!"  
  
Kathryn stood up, "Well, I had better let you get dressed Master Baggins, I will see you soon. I think I am going for a walk in the forest."  
  
"Namárië." Frodo bade her goodbye. 


	4. Light through the Shadow

The sun flecked the trees with gold and copper, and birds sang from the branches as she walked through the forest. Deeper she went, seeking solitude, every now and then caressing the rough bark of a tree. A sudden shadow entered her mind and before she knew it she was knocked to the ground.  
  
Strong arms picked her up even as she struggled. A nauseating stench suffocated her, sweat and blood swarming up her nostrils and clouding her mind. Now recovering from her surprise she opened her mouth to scream for help, the pain in her side flaring, and cursed herself for leaving her sword in her room. A thick, dirty hand clamped onto her mouth and she choked on the foulness. Her captor slung her on his shoulder. Through her dimming eyes she could make out only one other creature. They resembled orcs, but were taller, and more muscular.  
  
"Zg-ash?" The one who carried her snarled.  
  
The other orc growled a guttural agreement. Blackness captured her vision, encompassing everything. She felt the orc take one step, and felt the blackness bring despair into her heart.  
  
A clear voice sounded through the clearing, almost piercing the shroud of darkness on her mind. "Daro (Halt)! Put her down or you will be killed!" The blackness buffered her mind from sense, but she knew that that voice was the voice of a stranger.  
  
There were defiant snarls from both the orcs and the screech of metal being readied for a fight. But immediately after their growls, there was a thunk of an arrow meeting flesh. His convulsions shook her along with him. With a last grunt he fell to the ground, releasing her.  
  
Freedom was short lived however, and even as hope began to seep back within her, despair killed it. Uttering a savage cry, the second orc thrust her over his shoulder, and began to run. Just when she was about to surrender to darkness there was another thunk and, choking while clawing at the arrow in his throat, the orc also stumbled and fell, trapping her under its dead carcass.  
  
Weakly she struggled, until she heard the light landing of feet nearby.  
  
"Boe nin veriad lîn! Berio aniron (I need your help! Please help)!" He heaved the body off her and turned her round to face up. Kathryn could barely see, but light began to defeat the darkness, shining from the person leaning over her.  
  
"Lady are you alright?" He asked gently. Seeing confusion in her eyes, he switched tongues. "Hiril - Ú-gostach si beriach aen (Lady - fear not, you are safe now)." She could see his face now. Kind, green eyes glistened in the sun with a life welcome after the ordeal. He was not an elf, but his cheer was such that she could not say he had no elven blood in his veins. He had unusually dark hair, almost black, cut short except at the very back a thin braid ran down to his shoulder blades. Sitting her up against a tree, he still looked curiously into her eyes.  
  
"Awarthach i laeth a si celich (Leave the cares you bear now)." He touched a graze the orc had made on Kathryn's forehead; his hand soothing the wound.  
  
Kathryn was breathless and slightly bewildered, her mind refusing to comprehend the ambush and even more a rescuer. She tried to get up, using the tree to prop her up. "Hennaid. Ú-garon trenari i-'ell nin egor i chennaid nin.na pethar (Thank you. I cannot express my joy or my thanks in words)! Dan i-heniach im bell dúnien (But understand I am not helpless)." Her next words were such a contradiction to her last proud statement that she laughed even as she spoke them. "- awarthon i vegil nin (I forgot my sword)."  
  
They both laughed. "May that well be a lesson to you lady." The man said in the Common speech, grinning.  
  
Realising neither knew the other, Kathryn introduced herself. "Im Kathryn Taurrandiriel."  
  
The man nodded, "Istannen le nin. Im Turion, elen sila lumenn' omentielvo (You are known to me. I am Turion, a star shines on the hour of our meeting)!" Placing a supporting arm around her waist, he led her back to Rivendell.  
  
As they walked, they got to know one another better.  
  
"That is a strange name, Kathryn, to be bestowed upon an elf." Turion began.  
  
Kathryn smiled. "An elf? Nay I am not an elf, Rivendell was not even my childhood dwelling, though I spent much of my later years here, studying the knowledge elves lovingly gift, in between travels." Finishing she looked at him, "So what is your history?"  
  
"I journey alone or with the Rangers of the lands, helping where I can. Much like your Estel."  
  
"Very much like."  
  
"So you say you are no elf? But you have many of the attributes of their kind."  
  
"I am half elven, my mother was an elf maiden with the gift of foresight, my father, a Ranger. And you? You cannot deny the elven blood in your veins."  
  
Turion smiled, but did not look at her, instead gazing ahead beyond the path they followed. "My mother was one of the remnants of the Dunedain - as your father. My father was from Harad, his side of the family dwelt in Umbar before it was won back by the Corsairs. Is that sufficient?"  
  
Kathryn sighed, "And now we are both in Rivendell. Is it not strange how paths cross, and how a doorstep becomes a path, becoming a road, taking your feet faster and faster until you are far from home?"  
  
This time it was Turion's turn to sigh, "And yet that is our fate, our road, is it not?" They walked in silence for a while, until he cast away the shadow fallen over their hearts with a smile. "Fear not my lady, we are in a safe place where no evil may reside."  
  
"You really think so?" She questioned him. "I fear the power in this place is weakening, if orcs may break its boundaries. Imladris is supposed to be invisible to the Enemy, even if he knows we are here somewhere."  
  
Turion stopped walking, keeping his firm yet comforting hold on her hand so she was pulled back with him. He brought her up close and laid one finger upon her lips. "Hush. Do not speak of such things now! Be happy while there is a place for it. Be loved while pure love dwells. For the love of the world is now mingled with grief, at in the times that we walk alone we should remember the happiness and love so we do not falter."  
  
"True words." She said softly.  
  
Smiling at the teasing sparkle ignited within his green eyes as they stared into Kathryn's own, she pushed him away gently and started walking the path back to Rivendell again. However her knees were shaking after a few paces. Thankfully he followed her and soon scooped her up into his arms with a grin.  
  
At the edge of the woods they met Legolas and Estel, both of which had worried frowns and alert eyes. Legolas spotted them first and ran lightly over.  
  
"Kathryn! What happened? After yesterday you should not have been venturing out of the woods!" He lifted her out of Turion's arms and held her, eyes searching for damage. He touched her forehead, feeling curiously the graze.  
  
"What happened?" Estel spoke from behind Legolas.  
  
"There were orcs in the wood." Turion replied.  
  
"Orcs?" Legolas exclaimed, caressing the graze more.  
  
"What happened?" Estel repeated, looking grimmer.  
  
Turion saved Kathryn from delving into memory by recounting the event quietly to Estel and Legolas, as she sat on a rock not far off.  
  
"You have our thanks, Turion." Estel spoke after much thought. "And I invite you to stay in Imladris for as long as you will before the wilderness calls you again. A council is to be held tomorrow, and people such as you would be welcomed with much gratitude." Legolas remained silent, looking at the newcomer thoughtfully. 


	5. The Council of Elrond Part I

*Hi! I know this is a LONG chapter (compared to the others anyway) but it was the same in the book and film so excuse me, that's why I've decided to split it into two =) I hope you are following the story so far - if you have any problems e-mail me at schumiferrari13@hotmail.com - helpful criticism is much appreciated and also have a go at my other story that begins at the beginning (!) - HIDDEN IN IMLADRIS*  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
The sun streamed through the pillars surrounding the outdoor chamber, flooding the room with golden light. A playful wind lifted falling leaves to swirl around the pillars. And in this place of peace a serious matter was to be discussed in the Council of Elrond.  
  
"Strangers from distant lands; friends of old." Elrond began to the gathered circle of peoples around him. "You are summoned here to answer the growing threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one Doom." He turned to the two hobbits - Frodo and Bilbo, his uncle. "I would ask you to recount the tale of the Ring, but the hour grows late and haste is needed. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." He gestured to the stone column in front of him.  
  
Slowly the hobbit walked to the centre and placed down the Ring. A murmur of surprise and alarm flourished around the room. Kathryn looked at the simple band, trying not to remember the power that was in it. It was so beautiful for something so plain. A man to her right stood up and as he stepped further into the circle she saw something familiar in his face. He had brown hair and a well trimmed beard, pale grey eyes staring at the band of gold upon the grey stone. His attire was Gondorian, but she had not the time to look back on her days spent there.  
  
"A dream made me seek counsel here. A shadow grew from the East, but in the West a pale light lingered and a voice cried:  
  
Seek for the Sword That Was Broken; In Imladris it dwells; There shall be counsel taken Stronger than Morgul-spells. There shall be shown a token That Doom is near at hand, For Isildur's Bane shall waken And the Halfling forth shall stand."  
  
Rising to her feet, words choking in her mouth, Kathryn spoke furiously, "How dare you? How dare you use the words that killed my mother! And all it was for you was a dream!" The man's gaze was cut from the Ring, and he stared, surprised, at Kathryn, taken aback by her words. Elrond rose from his seat and cut his hands across the air for silence.  
  
"Those words are indeed those that your mother had in her foretelling. But that was twenty years ago, and to see so far into the future is more dangerous than to see less than a year ahead." His eyes were sympathetic, and she knew he would explain later perhaps. "But all questions and riddles will be answered as best they can here. Sit down Kathryn and Boromir of Gondor for I now see the meaning of this dream." For some reason this Boromir fidgeted under Kathryn's relentless and resenting gaze, almost as if with guilt. Slowly she sat down.  
  
Elrond once again focused attention on the Ring. "This is the One Ring, forged by the Dark Lord Sauron. It will be the Doom of Middle Earth."  
  
"Nay." Protested Boromir, rising, "It is a gift! A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring?" Pain from memory passed across his face as he spoke passionately. "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people." He hit his breast, then with his other hand gestured to the people around him. "While your lands are kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy. Let us use it against him!"  
  
"You cannot wield it." Estel rose to his feet from the edge of the circle. "None of us can. The Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."  
  
"And what," said Boromir, with quiet anger in his voice, "would a Ranger know of these matters?"  
  
"This is no mere Ranger!" announced Legolas, also rising. "This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." Boromir opened his mouth but no words came out.  
  
"This is Isildur's heir?" Kathryn wondered aloud, rising dreamily to her feet and taking a few steps forward towards him. "Aragorn?" She raised her hand and touched his face, with searching eyes. He tried to avoid her gaze.  
  
"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas continued. Kathryn spun around to face him.  
  
The newly named Aragorn gestured softly with his hand, "Havo dad, Legolas (Sit down, Legolas)." He looked back to her. "Kathryn." He whispered.  
  
Words failed her. What cruel fate could make this happen? Dejectedly she sat down in her seat, staring at nothing.  
  
Boromir however, was still standing, "Gondor has no King." He said quietly, sitting down and looking darkly at Aragorn. "Gondor needs no King." Throughout the rest of the council he would frequently cast such looks at Aragorn, jealous and measuring.  
  
Elrond looked at her sternly. "Rise." He commanded. She stood up, and walked towards Elrond. He turned her to face the council will his hands on her shoulders. "Legolas, son of King Thranduil, has already introduced Aragorn. But Kathryn is also needing an introduction herself." He raised his voice so all in the room could hear. "This is Aredylen daughter of Armelion, second son of Arador. She is Isildur's heiress, if you will."  
  
"And heiress to the throne of Gondor." Legolas murmured, blue eyes shining with intrigue.  
  
Kathryn sat down, desperately trying to ignore the looks from either side.  
  
"We are here in Rivendell or Imladris as it was known of old." Elrond said, casting his eyes to Boromir. "The Sword That Was Broken, Narsil, has long rested here in its shards, but may yet be reforged." An elf came forth bearing the pieces and laid them on Elrond's left side. "The halfling has stood forth." He gestured to Frodo. "Now the token of Doom has been shown. Isildur's Bane: The One Ring. It has awoken, it has heard its master's call. The Ring must be destroyed."  
  
"Then what are we waiting for?" snarled a dwarf, leaping to his feet and unhooking his axe. He swung it with all his might at the Ring and there was a burst of immense power. When everyone looked again, the dwarf's axe lay in pieces around the pedestal, but in the eye of the storm the Ring lay, unscathed.  
  
Elrond gave the dwarf who now lay on the floor a wry smile. "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloín, by any craft we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this." He surveyed the circle.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
*Dum dum! Who's going to take the Ring I wonder?!!! Anyway THANK YOU VERY MUCH people who have reviewed - you have made me consider my writing style and suchlike!* 


	6. The Council of Elrond Part II

*And Mae govannen again friends!*  
  
"One does not simply walk into Mordor." Boromir groaned, his head in his hands. Then he looked up. "The Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep." He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. "The Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume." He shook his head. "Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."  
  
"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has just said? The Ring must be destroyed!" Legolas said earnestly, rising again, grey cloak pushed back.  
  
Gimli sprang up from his chair, grunting, "And I suppose you think you'll be the one to do it?" Elf and Dwarf glared at each other.  
  
"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron reclaims what is his?" Boromir stood, urging the rest of the circle.  
  
"I'll die before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" The dwarf continued, his kinsmen standing by him. Simultaneously, Legolas's kin from Mirkwood rose to argue with their Prince, but he held them back, being cooler of mind, although his eye still glared keenly at the dwarves. The entire chamber was filled with debate, argument and banter as the men from the south and Laketown joined in.  
  
The two Rangers, the two hobbits, Gandalf and Elrond stayed seated. Gandalf and Elrond looked at each other with resignation. Eventually Gandalf pulled himself up by his staff and began fervently to try to reason with those nearest. "Do you not understand?" He thundered. "While you bicker amongst yourselves Sauron's power grows! None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!"  
  
And Frodo sat on his large chair, staring fearfully at the Ring, seeing the havoc it was raking just by being there. Then his blue eyes hardened and he swallowed, slipping off his chair.  
  
"I will take it!" He said quietly, but no one could hear him. "I will take it!" He shouted, and the whole council was quiet. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though," He paused, uncertain. "I do not know the way." Kathryn's heart swelled with pride while at the same time breaking in two that he should choose such a dangerous road.  
  
"And I will help you bear this burden, as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf walked to him, leaning heavily on his staff, and placing a hand on the small hobbit's shoulder.  
  
Aragorn rose. "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He swore. He knelt before Frodo, taking his hand. "You have my sword."  
  
"And my bow." Legolas declared, moving towards Frodo.  
  
"And my axe!" Gimli said, standing next to the Elf, allowing one last glare. Kathryn saw Gandalf and Elrond exchanging optimistic glances.  
  
"You carry the fate of us all, little one." Boromir said to Frodo. Then he looked at Elrond. "If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done." Kathryn watched with interest.  
  
"Here! Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" Sam shouted from his hiding place among the bushes, then he scrambled up the steps and stood by his master. Elrond smiled, his keen elven gaze had long before shown him Sam's hiding place.  
  
"No indeed it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not."  
  
Then two more protests came from the arches opposite where Sam had been, and Elrond's eyes widened with rare surprise. "Hey! We're coming too!" Pippin shouted, running over to the gathering around Frodo.  
  
"You'll have to tie us up in a sack to stop us!" Merry added.  
  
Elrond examined them all. "Nine Companions, to match the Nine Ringwraiths - " At that moment Kathryn, after thinking long about it, rose.  
  
"You've had my love, Frodo, since I first met you. But now you have all the aid I can give you." She said walking slowly towards him. "I apologise Elrond, I know your love for symmetry, but the Fellowship needs a woman so a woman they will have!"  
  
Elrond could not hold his acute eyebrows down in a frown for long. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." 


	7. Through the flecks of light and shadows

*Please if you read this review - I need reviews in order to improve!*  
  
The Council was then dismissed. As people left, Kathryn saw Turion rise from the shadows of a pillar.  
  
"By the Valar!" She cried. "I did not see you!"  
  
Smiling, he strolled around the semicircle, drawing closer to her. "You yourself are a Ranger, my lady Aredylen." He noted brushing light fingers under a delicate flower on a young sapling, then he looked at her fully, a half smile flickering on his lips. "You know the tricks of the trade."  
  
Holding her gaze he sauntered over, that same half smile teasing round a corner in his green eyes. He reached her and drew himself up closer, looking down to her face and now letting the smile escape. So close he was that their bodies were almost touching; she felt his breath touching its wings on her face, and she smiled in return. And turned her back to him.  
  
"Call me Kathryn, Turion. That was my first name." As she began to walk away, she stole a glance behind her. The tantalising smile was hiding again. Raising one dark eyebrow she turned her head away again and walked off the pavilion, never looking back.  
  
As soon as she left his gaze she relaxed a little more. How she wished for a dress or something more feminine than the cursed shirt and trousers she wore now!  
  
"My lady, I doubt it would be wise to venture so soon into the woods after yesterdays escapade." Turion advised stepping out from behind a tree. He glanced to her belt. "Though I see you have remembered your sword this time."  
  
"Why, you impertinent-" She lunged at him, he dodged behind the tree, and when she searched around it, he was gone. "Turion!" She called, laughing.  
  
"Yes?" called a voice from behind her. She spun around and there he was. Dealing him an unexpected blow she ran off. Once out of sight, she climbed a tree and, slowing her breath, watched for the entertainment to wander along.  
  
She waited a long time and no one came. Frustrated, she sighed, turning to climb back down. And came inches from Turion's face. Blushing, she had nothing to say, except mutter nothings and slide down to the ground. The game over, Turion dropped down also and offered an arm, which she took gladly, feeling more of a lady with his arm encircling around her waist than any dress could make her.  
  
"Have you been to Harad, Turion?" She asked him.  
  
"Yes. When I was a small boy." He answered shortly after.  
  
"What's it like?" She asked, idly laying her head on his shoulder.  
  
"Hot and white," was his reply, his eyes glowing golden in the light. "The Sun is an enemy there, beating us flat with its hammer upon the desert's white anvil. Only at dusk and in the early hours of the morning can we find solace outside. It never rains there, save for one month, and then it is like an ocean being thrown upon us."  
  
"And you grew up there?"  
  
"Yes." His green eyes flickered towards her, then looked far into the distance again, hardening. "It was home. Until the Corsairs came back."  
  
She hummed a soft melody to him as they walked along.  
  
"So your true name is Aredylen?" He said over her musical undercurrent. "Elrond did not fully explain. The Isildur I have heard of from the tales of the Dúnedain, but he was an evil, corrupted man was he not?"  
  
"Corrupted by the ring, yes; and eventually killed by it." Kathryn spoke reluctantly of the subject, not wishing to think of it yet.  
  
"And you and Aragorn are his heirs? But Aragorn is the Chieftain of the Dúnedain - by blood line - does this mean the leaders of the Westernesse are descendants of this Isildur." He practically spat the name.  
  
"Yes I suppose that is true. And I am a descendant of Isildur." Turion frowned and the dark expression remained on his face.  
  
"Are you alright?" Kathryn asked.  
  
"Yes my lady." Was his sullen answer.  
  
Turion excused himself once he had escorted her back to the House of Elrond, leaving Kathryn alone in the entrance chamber to Elrond's library. 


	8. Doubt and reforging

* Hi! I know this is a bit short but enjoy anyway! You know I always appreciate comments *hint, hint*! Um hopefully in the following chapters Kathryn will seem a bit more realistic.hopefully! *  
  
Her feet took her into the place she haunted every visit that she made to Rivendell. Ascending a flight of stairs, she found the gallery. Guarded by silent statues, it took her back to the past as she walked along with paintings of its ancient history on her right and remnants of ruined glory upon her left.  
  
Silent with reverence she strode up to one statue to look long upon its cherished possession cradled in its arms. There lay the shards of Narsil, Elendil's sword.  
  
"The Sword-That-Was-Broken." She recollected quietly from her mother's sole legacy to her. Then she corrected herself, bitterly. "The Sword-That- Is-Broken."  
  
As she lifted the stunted hilt, she wondered if it would ever be reforged. And if so, who would reclaim it? Would the strife of two heirs tear apart what hope is left against.  
  
".against the Shadow?" Her thoughts slipped out between her parted lips. Quickly but carefully she placed it back. Did she deserve the sword of great Kings? It was her forefather that had broken the line of Kings. Did she have the strength to reforge that?  
  
A hand comforted her shoulder. She shrugged under it, turning; she was losing faith. It was Aragorn.  
  
"I know now the shadow weighing upon you Estel.Aragorn." She grimaced.  
  
"It pains me to see you share the burden, cousin." He said softly.  
  
Leaning against the railings she looked at the floor. "Can I resist the Ring? Should I be trusted to be so near to its lure?" She questioned herself. Aragorn gripped the railing, looking down to the library below. "I do not know what strength is in our blood. But I know anything that happens will have to fight strongly against your will." Neither moved their gaze. "I wish it were that easy." was all she said. She walked away, sitting on a bench further along the gallery, out of sight, wrapped in her brooding thoughts.  
  
"Why do you fear the past?" A woman's voice asked behind Aragorn. Her voice burdened with wisdom and age but a counterbalancing waterfall of merriment ran through its discourse. "You are Isildur's heir - not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate." Aragorn turned and saw a lady clad in gently glowing white; dark hair flowing down her shoulders. His love.  
  
"The same blood flows through my veins. The same weakness." His grey eyes shone, declaring his troubling lineage.  
  
"Your time will come. You will face the same evil and you will defeat it." Her eyes were sad, but certainty dwelt like a rock within them. Caressing his unshaven cheek, she whispered comforting words. "A si i- Dhúath ú-arthor, Aragorn. Ú or le, a ú or nin (The Shadow does not hold sway yet, Aragorn. Not over you and not over me). She took his hand and they walked outside, embracing twilight. 


	9. With men and their doubts with elves and...

Unlike Aragorn, Kathryn took little comfort from her words, however heartfelt they were. In the dark corner she brooded as a figure strolled under the patches of moonlight in the hall. His heavy boots echoed through the otherwise silent haven of memory. She watched him, and perceived that it was Boromir, the man she had snapped at in the Council. As he examined a painting of Isildur's last stand against Sauron, she studied him. Familiarity lingered on the outskirts of her mind, but when she tried to grasp at the memories, she slipped away, and yet it dogged her despite her attempts to shake it off.  
  
He was from Gondor. His tunic was burgundy with golden brocades of diamonds, and over that he wore a dark, sleeveless mantle. By him hung a horn and a hunting dagger - he had courteously left his sword in his rooms, she presumed. The face of this strange man intrigued her. Desperation lurked behind his eyes, in a few unguarded glances, but well hidden by pride and will. Hope still remained inside him, yet by a little impatient sigh or clench of a fist she could see he was fighting to keep it kindled. His light brown hair was tucked back behind his ears, and his beard was well trimmed. Each pace he made along the floor bespoke of pride bordering on arrogance.  
  
Turning from his curious scrutiny, he finally noticed her. He walked forward, to try and ascertain who is was.  
  
"Are you an elf of the place?" He finally asked. She merely stared at him. "You seem more earthly than these who skip lightly around singing of stars and trees."  
  
"Men the North, South and West are welcome here." She replied softly.  
  
"I see you are no man, lady Aredylen." He said, an undecided frown on his face. Kathryn nodded. Boromir seemed to remember something. "That vision I spoke of. I apologise if I insulted you in any way. It was not I who dreamt it first, though it did eventually enter my dreams. My brother heard the voice first and clearer than I. But I entreated the Steward to allow me to journey to Imladris." He drew himself up tall. "I am the elder son, the future of Gondor will rest with me one day. I thought Imladris would give me answers. But it has given me nothing but more questions." He glanced at her. "Perhaps you could help me. My brother bid me deliver a message to someone who told him they dwelt here. Do you know of a Kathryn?"  
  
"I am she." She said crossing her arms.  
  
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Ah, my brother speaks highly of you. You knew him in your visits to Gondor?"  
  
"I am not sure of whom you speak. What is your brother's name?"  
  
"His name is Faramir."  
  
Now Kathryn remembered. "Faramir? How is he - I have not seen him in ten years!"  
  
Boromir smiled, "He was well when I left him this Spring, though as troubled as I by the Shadow growing in the East. We were driven out of Ithilien and he and I along with two others barely reached the other side of the Anduin swimming. The orcs jeered at us from the eastern shore until they realised we had taken down the bridges." He smiled wryly.  
  
"That was truly brave of you." Kathryn remarked. "What is this message from him, then?"  
  
"Nothing much save hopes that you are well and much of what I have already told you. He said Gandalf has not paid him a visit for a long time, and misses his tutelage."  
  
"I hope to see Faramir soon." Kathryn murmured smiled from old memories and uncrossed her arms, changing her previous impression of this man.  
  
"You fight?" Boromir asked nodding at the sword on her belt.  
  
"Yes, my father was a Ranger, I took up much of his ways."  
  
"Then you will be useful on this quest, will you not?"  
  
"I hope to be, though I'm glad there is another man apart from Aragorn along with me." Boromir smiled in return and walked along to where Narsil rested.  
  
"The shards of Narsil!" He exclaimed quietly to himself, lifting the hilt and hefting it in his hand. "The blade that cut the Ring from Sauron's hand." He swung the broken blade at an imaginary foe, then his eyes came into contact with Kathryn's glaring ones. She did not like him touching the relic. "But nothing more than a broken blade." He said quickly, replacing it hastily. Instead it bounced of the side and crashed to the floor. Boromir hurried away.  
  
As if taking Boromir's exit as a cue, Legolas stepped in, fair skin glowing in the moonlight. His shining blue eyes sought hers and held their gaze as he walked towards her.  
  
"Renich i lû i erui govannem (Do you remember when we first met)?" She asked him, smiling.  
  
He smiled, his eyes glowing. "Nauthannen i ned ôl riannen (I thought I had strayed into a dream)." He replied in soft elvish.  
  
She laughed quietly. "Riannenach i ne' maeth mellon nin (You had strayed into a fight my friend)."  
  
"Thenin (True)." He remarked while caressing her cheek, looking deep into her eyes. "Medui penninor gostannon le (Yesterday I feared for you)" He stopped, a shadow flickering in his eyes. Fear. "Avo aniron ad mistan o nin. Dartho gui nin (Please don't leave me again. Stay by my side)!" Kathryn flinched away from his touch.  
  
"Nauthach ú-berion nin (You think I cannot protect myself)?" She murmured.  
  
"Boe broniatham naeg ae cerithan (We will both have to endure pain if you do)."  
  
"Dan u-henion nin, Legolas (Then you do not understand me, Legolas)." She could not look at him, instead turning and walking into the night. 


	10. Evil festering in places of good and gre...

Dawn's pink glowing fingers stretched through the open windows to warm Kathryn's cheek. She woke quickly, wanting to get her body fit once again for battle.  
  
"I can protect myself." She growled as she slipped out of bed. Her dreams had been full of eyes, many different pairs of eyes. All questioning her; doubting her; criticising her. Pulling her leather corset around her, she laced it up with angry jerks on the strings. Each yank steeling herself for the training she was preparing for.  
  
Dressed, she fastened her belt around her waist, checking it. Her whetstone, oil cloth and skinning dagger lay by the table and she slid each into their places, carefully folding the cloth. Coils of bowstring were still in her pouch, and dry. Her simple short bow leant against the wall, and her sword on the table. Sheathing her sword, and fitting the bow over her back she followed the paths down to the training yards.  
  
The yards were deserted, and a feeling of solitude lingered in the green grass of the clearings. Drawing her sword, Kathryn began a series of routines, adapting to the weakness in her side. Quicker and quicker she delivered them, flurries of steel sweeping through the air as she darted back and forth around the glade. The ideas became more intricate, stylised, until she seemed to dance as part of the sword through the movements. Not wanting to overdo herself, she slowed her pace until she was doing the simplest of parries against a foe's imaginary sword.  
  
A clash of steel whipped her mind out of the single-minded concentration on the sword. Looking along her sword, she saw another. Her eyes tracked along the foreign blade until she met the newcomer.  
  
"Back to the sword then already?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Yes. If we are to leave Rivendell soon, then I must be in the best of conditions in order to protect Frodo." She tapped his sword away nonchalantly, and he yielded. He followed her to the clear lines prepared for archery.  
  
"So we are cousins." Aragorn finally got round to saying.  
  
Kathryn bent her bow and hooked the bowstring onto the end. She tested it by pulling the string back to the furthest it could stretch. Nodding, she relaxed it again, this time notching an arrow to it, and drawing it back to her ear.  
  
"So we are." She replied, closing her left eye and concentrating. She released the arrow and it sped fast and true. With a thunk it embedded itself deep into a knot of an old oak tree. Satisfied, she lowered the bow and turned to face Aragorn. "Does it now make sense to you that you should have let me travel?"  
  
"It has made sense far before I discovered our kinship. Kathryn you know I am sorry for opposing your decision. Please put it behind us, forgive me." His grey eyes pleaded for peace.  
  
Kathryn was silent for a while, staring with her elven eyes at the arrow. Resolved she faced him again and smiled lovingly. "Ú-moe edaved, Aragorn (There is nothing to forgive Aragorn)." Aragorn smiled, relieved. Then his eyes saw someone approaching.  
  
"Hail Turion!" He greeted the other Ranger. Kathryn turned, smiling also. But the smile quickly matched the frown Turion already held.  
  
"What.?" She began. His hand cut sharply across the air.  
  
"So this is where the evil festers: in places of goodness and green. How long before the goodness is tainted, and the leaves turn black?" He spat. Kathryn lowered her head and huddled against Aragorn's side.  
  
"Now listen here." Aragorn stepped forward, frowning also. He rubbed her back reassuringly. "Long have we fought against the Shadow, risking our lives for innocents. How can you denounce us in such a way?"  
  
Turion's face darkened more. "You are descendants of Isildur, you have evil in your veins as he did!"  
  
"No!" Kathryn whispered, shaking her head in denial, hugging closer to Aragorn. "Aragorn - it isn't true is it?"  
  
"No, Kathryn, it is not true. I will not see you upset my cousin so!" He stepped forward again, hand on hilt.  
  
Turion strode forward, ignoring Aragorn's warnings. He cupped Kathryn's chin in his hand looking into her eyes. "I see the shadows behind her deceptive grey veils. And beyond that.flame." Tears splashing down her cheeks, Kathryn tried to turn away. But Turion's fingers dug into her cheeks forcing her to look at him. "You are nothing more than a servant of the Enemy. All you wait for is his call." He snarled.  
  
No more tears left Kathryn's eyes. They were frozen with despair. Finally Turion let go of his hold and she fled.  
  
Aragorn grabbed hold of Turion's shoulder. "Why did you do that?" He asked. "I thought you were her friend!"  
  
Turion shook Aragorn's hand off. "Let go of me fiend!" He cried and whirled out of the glade.  
  
Clenching his fist, Aragorn fought the temptation to go after Turion. But now was not the time. His cousin was in need of his comfort. A sigh escaped him as he watched the place where Turion had left, then he ran off following the Kathryn's footsteps. 


	11. Surrender to the Darkness

Um thanks helm's deep sorry for not updating - I didn't realise anyone was reading anymore! Enjoy!  
  
Leaping onto Siriarél's bareback, she burst out of the stables. The Road was her only friend. She wanted it back again. As trees and waterfalls blurred behind her, so did her pain. Until it was brought back sharply by one voice.  
  
"Kathryn!" Aragorn called from far behind her. "Come back! Kathryn!"  
  
"Let me be!" She called over her shoulder, urging her mare on as she glided through past the green leaves and glittering waters. Would her presence pollute those waters; would it be her hand that blackened the leaves? Trying to push back the dark despair creeping back in, she found she could not. A shadow lingered in the back of her thoughts. Suddenly she knew it was not of her own mind.  
  
"Kathryn!" Aragorn yelled. "Behind you!" Kathryn looked quickly behind and saw Aragorn, gritting his teeth and spurring his horse onwards. But in between them was a rider in black. No face was visible underneath the folds of dark cloth. Only blackest malice.  
  
"Noro lim, Siriarél. Noro lim! (Ride fast, Siriarél. Ride fast!)" She cried, the shadow in her mind growing into terror. The wound in her side began to throb.  
  
Twisting around again in her saddle she saw Aragorn alongside the Wraith.  
  
"Aragorn! No!" She screamed as she saw it take up its cold blade. Wheeling her horse around, she rode towards both of them, drawing her sword.  
  
"Kathryn flee!" Aragorn bellowed; desperation in his eyes. His face hardening, he parried the black blade with all his strength. The force of the Wraith's blade sent a quiver of cold up his arm and it fell uselessly at his side. "Fly!"  
  
The hooded figure turned back to face Kathryn, uttering in a chilled rasp, "You cannot flee us, we shall find you."  
  
"Go back! Go back to Mordor!" She cried, Siriarél rearing.  
  
"Come back! Come back! To Mordor I shall take you!" It hissed, sensing weakness. "Back to the Shadow where you belong." It laughed, swinging its blade again at Aragorn. This time he ducked; the hilt instead rapping his head, and he toppled off his horse.  
  
"Come with us! Or this human will feel darkness and death. But his death shall only be the beginning." The voice held no laughter this time, only an icy menace.  
  
"No!" Kathryn whispered, yielding to the darkness in her mind. Swaying, she also fell from her horse. Never feeling the ground. 


	12. Council Taken, Doubts Awaken

"One of the Nazgûl you say Aragorn?" Elrond asked the Ranger sprawling on the cushioned chair who held his head in his hands.  
  
"I do not understand." He replied. "That flood that you, Kathryn and Arwen summoned should have scattered them for miles, or at least rendered them horseless and without form."  
  
Elrond strode to the window, looking out to the seemingly peaceful valley of Rivendell. Fingering the ring Vilya, he wondered at how a shadow could have entered this place. But it had, and his niece was forfeit for his oversight.  
  
"We assumed too much." He intoned, turning round to face the gathering of people in the room. "I assumed too much."  
  
"Do not put blame to anyone, Elrond, least of all yourself. Even us, the Wise, cannot always tell." Gandalf spoke from the other side of the room. "Put instead your mind to the task at hand. Did we see all nine of the riders before they began their crossing of the Bruinen?"  
  
Elrond spun to face him. "You think the Witch King withheld from the confrontation?"  
  
"It is possible." Gandalf hooked his pipe to the side of his mouth.  
  
"Kathryn may be in the His hands? The speed of their mounts is infamous; they could be beyond the Misty Mountains by now."  
  
"Nay my Lord Elrond." Aragorn spoke. "The passes are blocked still with Winter's snow. There may be hope yet. I am not sure if even the Witch King would risk passing so close to Isengard."  
  
"Saruman showed an interest in Kathryn even without the knowledge of who she was." Gandalf advised, then suddenly he ended his musings and took the pipe from his mouth. "Now I understand." He declared. "I know now why and how the Witch King showed interest in her. The former is a trifle obvious, but the latter I only now understand."  
  
Elrond's eyes widened. "You think when she healed Frodo.?"  
  
"My exact thoughts Elrond. I think Kathryn encountered more than buried evil from the Morgûl Blade." Standing up, he leaned on his staff. "I did not heed it when she first came to - she seemed merry and healed - but as ever, now I look back I remember the traces of fire in her eyes. I believe she encountered Sauron in her battle to save Frodo."  
  
"By the Valar!" Aragorn cried, taking his hands from his head.  
  
"He cannot yet take physical form but his spirit has lost none of his potency; and in Kathryn's mind they met. And his eye pierced her soul, and I fear now that he knew. He knew her heritage before the time is ripe, and now he has responded."  
  
"She will be taken to Mordor." Aragorn said quietly.  
  
"But not yet." A woman's voice entered the room, ahead of its owner. Arwen stepped forward clad in dark blue, her grey eyes were like mist, holding water but not letting it fall. "Lû ennas. Boe ammen ed-leitham rochyn hen gedi (There is time. We should send out riders to find her)."  
  
"Yé, pen garir hen gedi, dan i Ulaer.(Yes, anyone can look for her, but the Ringwraith.)"  
  
"Boe ammen nad caro (Something must be done)!" Arwen said desperately, looking around the room. "Ai anman tithen? Toltho mellyn hen (Why so few? Summon her friends)!"  
  
"Men mellyn hen; dan bedathon muindyr lin a Legolas (We are her friends; but I will go find your brothers and Legolas)." Aragorn said to her.  
  
"Dartho guin hain. Bedon mellyn hen tiri (Stay with them. I will go look for her friends)."  
  
"Be iest lîn (By your wish)." He nodded, allowing a slight smile to escape his lips. She passed out of the room, as graceful as the air that wreathed through the pillars of the room. "Regardless." Aragorn continued, standing up. "We will have to be quick. This plan was made twofold: to take her, and to stall us. We will have to leave soon." The words brought pain to him, and he did not know if he could leave with his cousin in such a predicament. 


End file.
